Refuge From Fate
by Ellody
Summary: Boots had never been able to stand up for himself, and couldn't imagine standing up to someone like Warden Snyder. But Jack Kelly did. Jack tires his hardest to build up a strong wall from the world to protect himself. What happened in the refuge!
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Surprising huh, I'll bet you thought I did. Nope, I don't, sorry about that. So anyone you recognize is not mine_**

* * *

**Lost**

_Boots_

****

_I crept down the hallway, the blue and yellow ball rolling at my feet. Matt was somewhere around here and I wanted to find him so that I could play ball with Matt. Somehow my older cousin always seemed to disappear when I most wanted to play with him. Hearing voices through a door that slightly ajar at the end of the hallway, my four year old legs kicked the ball forward. I was about to burst open the door when I heard my name. _

"_-it's Tom. He's bugging me so bad!" I recognized it as the voice of his cousin Matt. Then his mother's voice answered. _

"_I'm sure it's not all that bad…"_

"_It is! The dumb bone-head's been following me everywhere, trying to get me to play with that stupid ball…"_

_I heard my mother laugh. "You know why he bothers you so bad…" There was a pause. 'It's because you two are so much alike. He's exactly like you were when you were that age."_

"_I hope not…" _

"_It's true, you're personalities are almost identical."_

"_That's awful. If it's true, I apologize, because I must have been the most annoying, terrible kid in the world, and I'm sorry."_

_Tears were rolling down my cheeks when I stepped through the door. I gave my cousin a dirty look and said, "You should be." _

_Turning around, I ran away as fast as I could, trying to get away from my cousin who'd hurt my feelings so bad. Even when I came to the front door, I kept going, right outside, even though it was winter. Without the time to pull on my own shoes, I grabbed whatever was closest, my cousins boots, as well as my own jacket and launched out onto the New York streets, still running. The yellow and blue ball bounced down the street and rolled to a stop._

I woke up shaking and stunned. My old bed creaked as I sat up and buried my head in my hands, trying to rid myself of the last memory I had of my childhood. When I had run away that day I had, like most kids, never really considered that running away meant forever. I'd tried to return home when I got cold and hungry, but never could find my way back. After days on the street, I'd been taken to an orphanage. Unable to recall my last name, nor tell anyone my mothers name or where I lived, I'd stayed here for the passed six years.

"Quit moving," A groggy voice complained from the other side of the bed. I groaned and sank back down, remembering times when I had had my own bed. This orphanage was crowded, dirty, and had too many occupants. It was the dearest ambition of many to get away from this place, and the dearest ambition of Mr. Young, the man that owned this place, that they would just leave. But rules where rules and I, like everyone else, was stuck in this place until I got older and was deemed able to fend for myself.

It felt as if I had barely shut his eyes when a voice began screaming around the room.

"Up! Up! Get up, yeah lazy bums, we need to get going, c'mon, up, up! We've got work ta do, get up!" Like a planned chorus we all groaned together. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and started to get dressed as much as possible while still under the blankets so I didn't have to face the cold outside, where I could see my breath rise in a mist before my face. As I final touch, I pulled on my big black boots, the only thing I still had from that day I'd run away. They were still too big for me (truth is I'm kind of a short guy, even now) and with limited money I have to wear them until they get too big for me. Which will probably be never.

Finally, my 'bunk-buddy', Andrew, pushed me out. I glared at him but didn't say a thing. He was only two years older then me, but much bigger, so generally in the orphanage I got pushed around.

"C'mon, this place is a mess! Get it cleaned up and then you can have breakfast."

"I hate Mondays…" I grumbled, knowing Monday was when we all had to clean. The water was nearly ice, and we had to scrub every inch of the place with it. Not that it made any difference, this place was constructed of filth.

With every scrub I muttered under my breath, "I hate this." My voice began like the chugging of a train, picking up speed and power. Finally a threw my rag at the floor and cried, "Ah, I hate this!!!" That earned me a smack on the back of the head as Harry, one of the older boys, hit me. "Don't we all," He gruffed. "So quit complaining."

I felt like angry. I wasn't an orphan. I may not have a family, but I didn't deserve this. Or maybe I did…maybe this was my punishment for running away. Either way, I decided that one way or another I was getting out.

I was still thinking about the idea when I lay down in bed that night. My muscles were sore, and where about to get worse on this terrible bed, my stomach was empty, and my head was full of ideas. But one was right across the room, a large window which opened outward. The only problem was we where on the second level. I could try and run away when everyone went out on Sundays, but then they'd notice right away. I wanted to have a whole night to put as much distance between me and this terrible place.

I'd made up my mind. Tonight was the night. I was getting out of here.

Clothes still all, all I had to do was pull on my boots, and then I reached the window. There was a slightly ledge outside of it, if I could climb out I could balance right there.

It was tricky, but thanks to my small size I was able to manage it. It was a long way to the bottom, but there was a tree a couple yards away. If I could grab one of the branches I could simply climb down to the ground. Piece of cake.

Before I had time to think about it, I jumped.

I missed.

* * *

**_Well, that's the first chapter. I'm trying to work with first person, something I rarely do with stories, but I'll keep trying. Please Review, I love reading your comments!_**


	2. Later

**Later**

_Jack_

"_We did all we could…"_

My steps were slow as they hit the pavement, splashing in puddles and soaking my worn pants, but I couldn't care less. Though my arms were crossed to keep out the cold, I barely noticed myself shaking, or my breath rising in a mist before me.

"_Just came too late…"_

The house looked almost exactly the same as it had when I'd left one week ago. But colder, emptier. Maybe it always would without her. It had always been run-down, but without her it looked even worse. I began to walk up the steps.

"_There's nothing we can do…I'm sorry…"_

I tried to open the handle, but the door didn't move. Strange…there small apartment had never been locked, even when my dad was away, though I couldn't imagine where he would be at eight at night. It wasn't like he had a job or anything to do.

"_She's gone…"_

Angrily, I kicked the door, and then sat up on the steps, my head buried in my hands, pulling at my hair. But I didn't try. I don't cry. I hadn't cried for years, no matter how often people tried to make me.

"Hey! Hey you! What are you doing?"

I raised my head to see a rather chubby, short man carrying a light approach me. "What are you doing?" He asked me again.

"I…I was trying to get in, but I realized it was locked. I'm looking for Conner Sullivan?"

"Mr. Sullivan was arrested three days ago. He got drunk and attacked another man, then the police. I'm working on sellin' his place now."

The man had reached the steps now. I quickly stood up, but not before the light landed on my face. The man's eyes squinted at me.

"Aren't you his son? Francis, right?"

"No…no, I'm not his son," I said, my voice steely and cold, and I jumped down the rest of the steps. He moved out of my way, puzzled, and I ran as quickly as I could.

"Hey…hey, wait!" I heard the man call behind me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. I couldn't think of what to do next. Since my mother had died a week ago, I knew that my father would get drunk and the best thing that I could do would be do run away until things cooled down. Now it appeared I had no where to go…my mother was dead…my father was arrested.

I felt like shouting up at the heavens for putting me through this. My mind was torn. I'd never really thought much about religion, but with the death of my mother such thoughts inescapably entered my head. I wanted there to be, so that I could know for sure that my mother was in heaven. If anyone deserved to be in heaven, it was her.

But if there was a heaven, there had to be a God. And what God would have done this? Would have given my mother the illness in the first place?

I shook the thoughts out of my head. There'd be time to think later, time to deal with the consequences of my actions later. Right now I had to plan what I was going to do next. I had to get a job, do something to earn some money, some way to get food. But right now it was very later, and I had to get some sleep.

There were no better options. A park bench would work well enough for tonight. After all, I may have been only sixteen, but I was still taller and stronger then most boys my age. Lying down, I shivered slightly and, rather then using my coat as a pillow, I pulled it tighter around my shaking form and fell asleep, trying to push all thoughts of my dead mother and arrested father from my mind. I'd deal with it later.

* * *

**_Finally, and update! Goodness knows I've put it off long enough. But there's the story from Jack's point of view! It will take a few more chapters before Jack and Boots finally meet, but it will come eventually, just have patients! Please review, I'ld love to get some more ideas on this!_**


End file.
